All Alone
by never-give-up-hope2
Summary: "The screen goes dark and the noise stops. Tears flow down his face and dammit, this shouldn't be happening." AU Summer 2014. Multi-chap. No hate about Ziva please.
1. Photograph

**I swear I don't even know where this came from. I wrote it ages ago and forgot about it. It is multi-chap. I do have three chapters written. No I will not update regularly, because exams suck. I have still been writing, but it's been more personal and fiction rather than ****_fan_****fiction if you get my drift. If this makes sense. I hope it does. **

**Disclaimer: Not even close. Not even a little bit. Not even at all. **

_We keep this love in this photograph_  
_We made these memories for ourselves_  
_Where our eyes are never closing_  
_hearts are never broken_  
_And time's forever frozen still_

~Photograph, Ed Sheeran

Perhaps it's the way that the light filters through his blinds this morning, or the way that he was first in the coffee line and got the good beans, but he feels that today will be different. Today _something _will happen, bad or good, and this is either the premise or the universe softening the blow.

He's not wrong. He turns up to work to find that McGee has been in since seven and completed not only his own paperwork but Tony's as well. Ellie has rearranged his desk and tidied up, labelling the box with the things she doesn't know what to do with as 'Tony's crap'. Gibbs comes in and hands him a coffee and that definitely makes him think something is up. Either he has been presumed dead again without knowing or he has been transported to another dimension – one where Gibbs brings _him _coffee.

It's three o'clock when Gibbs tells him that an MTAC call has come through for him. It's threatening to rain outside and he needs to requisition a new desk chair because one of the wheels has fallen off but these are things he will not remember later. He will only remember Bishop and McGee's faces as he walked upstairs and how Gibbs' eyes had shone with sympathy in a way he had never seen before.

The room is dark and the Director is already standing near the screen. Tony wants to make a crack about how he'll go square-eyed if he stays there too long but he has enough sense to note that this may not be the best idea. He walks up to Vance and puts on his best 'respectful-senior-agent-that-you-want-to-trust-with-sensitive-information' voice and says, "Good afternoon, sir."

Vance nods but doesn't say anything. He motions to the AV technician who brings up a dark square on the screen that is likely to play a video soon. "This has just been sent to us from an encrypted email. Nothing in it apart from this and a message that says, 'For Tony'. We haven't been able to trace it but it's fairly obvious once you watch the video."

Tony nods like he understands what the heck is going on. Why would an encrypted email send a video for him but not to him? Why send it to MTAC? Why encrypt it? Why the hell has Vance already seen it and most likely Gibbs too? He doesn't understand any of this at all. The last time he checked, 'For Tony' doesn't secretly mean, 'and Gibbs and Vance too'.

Vance nods once and then leaves, his steps equal and measured like a march. The technician also leaves, obviously assuming that Tony knows how to play videos by now. In Tony's opinion, that's a rather optimistic assumption but now is not the time to make anything of it. The room is dark, save for the brightness of the screen and that makes the whole situation seem somehow more sinister.

Taking a deep breath, he crosses the room to the computer and hits play. There is a few seconds of nothing before a blurry form appears on the screen. It stays that way for a few seconds before the fuzz clears and it's easy to tell who it is.

Ziva.

Dammit.

He'd though he'd gotten over her. He really had. Well, not over her but he thought he'd put her in a drawer and locked it. He has finally gotten to a peace, where sometimes he remembers the happy times and sometimes it's far too painful. He almost doesn't watch the video, but he does. He has to because it's important enough to break the silence she's assumed for a year.

Ziva takes a deep breath and begins to speak.

_'__This is not what you may think it is going to be about Tony. This shall not be an attempt to redeem myself in your eyes and I suppose it is equally for me as it is for you. It is an attempt to explain, and an attempt to clear my conscience before I do what I am going to. _

_'__I am going on a mission for Mossad. And before you think it, no I did not leave your life to crawl back to my old one. This is for a very old friend, who has lost more than I ever have. She deserves this, and I will do it no matter what. The reason for me telling you is that this has the possibility to go very south, as you say. As south as 2009 went. And I do not want you to spend the rest of your life wondering why I have never come back when I promised you I would. I do not want you to hate me, even though I gave the appearance of otherwise. I am so sorry for the pain I have caused you, Tony. And everybody else. Mossad tells me that the agent that is my replacement is former NSA analyst Ellie Bishop. They tell me she is good. I am glad; you deserve someone good to be your partner. This is not easy.' _

He pauses it. Just for a second he pauses it. Questions are forming in his mind, in the back of his throat, ready to leap out given the chance. However he is also stunned into silence. Summer 2009 was among the worst of his life. Right now, right now she could be dead, dying, tortured, just like all those years ago. Her tears that are flowing down her face on the screen mirror those that burn in the back of his eyes. Oh God, it cannot be happening again.

He presses play.

'_I am sorry, Tony, so very sorry. This was never my plan. This was never supposed to happen. Except it has and I suppose I must embrace it. I apologise for all of the lost chances, but perhaps it is better this way, yes? Perhaps this way there shall be no more pain for either of us. Perhaps we shall finally be free. _

_'__Give my love to all of the others and to yourself as well. Shalom, Tony.' _

The screen goes dark and the noise stops. Tears flow down his face and dammit, this shouldn't be happening.

Shalom, she said. Shalom.

Hello.

Peace.

_Goodbye. _


	2. Life Without You

**Boo! I bet this was a surprise, huh? Seriously you guys I love you all. Seven reviews, over ten follows and on the first chapter as well. Awh I just love you! Thank you to Amy (Shortcake99) because you're awesome and so unsympathetic to my week (I almost died- twice!) and you're lovely! Enjoy this please! **

**Disclaimer: Nope. Nope. Nope. Happy? **

Oh, this is life without you  
I'm learning how to miss you  
I guess I need to know how it feels like  
This is life without you  
I don't know who to turn to  
And everything I've known is said is goodbye  
So goodbye  
This is life without you  
This is life without you

_Life Without You ~ _Stanfour

He doesn't remember leaving MTAC. But he must have.

He doesn't remember running down the stairs. But he must have.

He doesn't remember shouting incoherently at Gibbs about Somalia and summer and Ziva.

But he must have.

None of it makes any sense. Ziva's not stupid (he can't quite bring himself to insert _was) _although she does have a rather nasty martyrdom complex that could use a bit of work on. This friend she talks about, this friend, who is it? She's obviously not a new acquaintance, because even new Ziva could never trust that easily. This must be an old friend, old family perhaps, but it still makes no sense in his mind.

"Gibbs, we have to go find her. Go get her," he pleads again, for the fifth time. His pleas get shorter each time, because Gibbs just doesn't seem to be listening. Of course he knows he is, the boss hears everything, he just pretends he can't.

"DiNozzo, we don't even know what mission she's on. We don't know if she's left or when she's going. _We don't know." _Gibbs gulps his coffee like it's the only thing keeping him tethered.

"Actually, boss, we do know when she left," McGee says without thinking. Gibbs shoots him a look that says he's not being helpful in the slightest but Tony pounces on his words.

"When, McGee?"

The sound of furious typing fills the room. "Well when we got the video, the Director asked Mossad for information on Ziva's status." More typing, more clicking. "She left two weeks ago, Tony. On a military transport plane to Yemen."

Yemen. Tony's brain whirls and swirls as he tries to think of a connection between Ziva and Yemen. Of course she hadn't told him everything about her life before NCIS, and she probably has connections with countries that aren't even listed on a map, but he still tries to make a connection. He comes up empty and is about to say so when McGee's computer makes a _ding _and he utters a quiet, "_Oh_."

"What is it, McGee?" Tony's voice is high, tight and hoarse and he can only think of one time that he's felt this way.

McGee looks up, and Tony can see he's not about to bring good news. Really, he knew it all along.

"Ziva's status was changed to 'Missing' nine days ago. The file notes say that her last reported location was Aden in southern Yemen. They don't know what's happened." McGee takes a deep breath and Tony really doesn't want him to say it, because then that means it'll be true and he doesn't want it to be. There's another ding and McGee refreshes the file he's looking at. Another sorrowful look. "Tony, they've stopped looking. She's been presumed dead. It's been official since five this morning. I'm so sorry, Tony."

The world twists and turns and he has to sit down. "We just got the video today. How can she have sent it today if she's…" He can't say it.

"It was on a timer. It was to be sent the day she left, but Mossad experienced circuit fault in their systems and everything was delayed," McGee explains.

"Just because they think she's gone, doesn't mean she is. Remember last time? They gave up on her, Eli left her. We should still look, boss, we have to. She's still one of us. We have to find her. We have to know."

Gibbs gives him a look but it's Ellie who says something instead. "Look, Tony. I don't know what went down last time, but it looks bad. And I know you can't help comparing but no two times are the same and this is no exception. Even if by some miracle she's alive, what if she doesn't want to be rescued? Because if you rescue her, you'll bring her back here and she'll feel compelled to stay, even if she doesn't want to. That isn't fair. Maybe, maybe the best thing you can do for her and for yourself is to let her go."

"She's right, Tony. You have to let her go," Gibbs says, in the soft voice he only saves for the worst of occasions.

"What if she's being tortured, huh? What if she is and we're just leaving her to that fate. Do you not remember last time? Do you not remember how bad she was?"

"Of course we remember. But we aren't authorised to conduct an investigation-"

"We weren't authorised last time!"

"-and we have no idea where to start," Gibbs says, shooting him a look that says if he wasn't so upset he would pay for that interruption.

"For God's sake! Don't you remember Ziva? A member of our team for eight years? Nope, not ringing a bell?"

He's so angry that he forgets to take his cell phone on the way out.

He drives around for hours, wasting diesel and wasting time. He can't go back to work, mainly because of how embarrassed he is about the way he stormed out earlier. He meant what he said. Have they forgotten Ziva? Yeah, he's the only one who's in love with her, but he thought the others cared for her. He thought they would at least try to get her back. They did last time, didn't they? And that time they had reason to be mad at her. Now they don't.

When he left, he promised himself he wouldn't allow himself to get caught up in her. He wouldn't allow himself to track her movements, that he would wait for her to find him. He put her in the proverbial drawer, tried to forget her but of course that was never going to happen. She was a big part of his life for eight years and that's not something he can forget. At first he was furious with her, so unspeakably mad at her and her selfishness. Except she wasn't his to lose, and that made the world of difference to the way he was allowed to feel.

He aches to find her, he does. His whole body is screaming for him to take the next plane to Israel and shake up Director Orli until she tells him what the hell she did to Ziva. Or what she sent Ziva to do. Or what Ziva offered to do. You know what? It doesn't even matter. He wants to shake _someone _and Orli – with her smug, know-it-all smirk and her perfectly made face – is the perfect candidate.

He finds a park bench to sit down on. It starts to rain. His car is parked no less than thirty steps away but he finds he'd much rather be here. Out here in the rain. Because it's refreshing, or maybe just because it reminds him of Ziva. Because Ziva liked rain. He met her when it was pouring outside, the earth trying to rid itself of death and destruction in the form of a torrential downpour. Maybe it's the same as that time. Maybe today he'll meet someone who'll become his partner for the next eight years.

Except he's not stupid. He likes Ellie and Ziva isn't his partner anymore. _Was _doesn't count in this hypothetical situation.

Forty-three minutes later a car pulls up and he recognises it as McGee's. He comes over and brings with him an umbrella and a coffee from Starbucks.

Damn. He must really have lost his shit if McGee spent four dollars on coffee for him.

McGee hands him the coffee and for a few seconds they just sit there under the umbrella silently. Tony's downright embarrassed about today, but he still feels he has a point. He still doesn't understand why they acted the way they did. He doesn't understand a lot of things, least of all this. Why did it happen to him? Why is life so bloody cruel?

McGee turns to him. "I know what you're thinking, Tony. It's not that we don't care. It's not that we've forgotten. It's that we just think she's gone."

"How do you know? Remember last time?" His voice is old. When did his voice get so old? It sounds like he's brushed with fifty years and then gargled with sawdust.

"Tony, this isn't last time. You need to stop comparing. Mossad isn't gonna leave her for dead. They've obviously looked." McGee's voice is gentle, but firm. It's confusing and comforting all at the same time.

"Eli didn't," he mumbles like a petulant child.

"This is different," McGee insists. "Eli was mad at her, didn't think she was loyal. As smug and as secretive as Orli is, I honestly don't think she would leave Ziva for dead. Do you?"

He doesn't answer because, honestly, he doesn't have one. He doesn't know all that much about Orli's personality, other than she likes to take and give nothing. In his stomach, there is the little plant of doubt. It says that no, Orli wouldn't do that. That she isn't Eli.

His gut tells him that she's pretty damn close.

He turns to McGee with tears in his eyes and a hole in his heart. "I miss her, Tim. I really miss her."

"I know, Tony. I know," he says and maybe he does, Delilah has just left for a job across the world. Maybe he knows how Tony feels. "But we don't wanna lose you over this. Not again."

_Again? What again? When has he ever been as lost and as broken and as down as he is now? _

_Oh. Right. _

_2009. _

Tony turns his face away. The rain has stopped but the air is damp and warm.

_Maybe there'll be thunder. _

"What if I'm already lost?"

Several hours and several beers later is when the anger starts to shine through.

It washes over him and he can feel its fiery heat in his chest. It makes him want to throw his umpteenth beer bottle at the wall and he wants to watch it shatter into brown shards that resemble his heart and he wants to watch the dregs run down the wall.

So he does.

It crashes against the beige wall with a fantastic noise that he can feel in his bones. The bottle shatters into hundreds of tiny pieces and he knows he will never be able to find them all. They lie on his floor, still and silent. It _does _look like the remains of his heart. Dead and still and never, ever going to be whole again.

He crashes another.

It makes him feel so _alive. _It gets the electricity running through his body, his bones, his muscles and he lets loose a scream from his chest. It's a primal sound; angry and feral and heart-breaking. He can't remember making a sound like that before.

He keeps on throwing the bottles. The dregs splatter all over his walls and it reminds him of blood-spattered walls at crime scenes.

_Things aren't so black and white when the walls are spattered with red, are they? _

No, they aren't. Because it all depends whose are the walls and who's doing the spattering and whom the red belongs to. Because sometimes it isn't walls. It's rooftops and friends and your very own face. It's a bomb and a magic shop and a stupid revolving wall. It's sometimes not even death but fathers and frogs and _you need to choose. _ It's Somalia and a cell and a dead-eyed woman who said _maybe I would. _

One thing is certain. It is never, ever simple.

The shards start to pile up on his floor. Some and brown and some are green and for a second he is mesmerised by the patterns they make on the hardwood of his floor. He begins to throw again, because, really, what does he have to lose?

He's so damn angry. How dare Ziva? How dare she walk away and take his heart with her and how dare she go on some stupid mission which she knew would get her killed? How dare Gibbs? How dare he tell him no and carry on as if Ziva was nothing when Tony knows she was like his daughter? How dare McGee? How dare he for being good and trying to make him feel better.

He doesn't want to feel better.

He wants to stay angry because if he's angry then he can't feel hurt and heart-broken because he's felt this way approximately four times in his life and the fifth isn't any better. If he's angry then for goodness sake he won't cry or do anything stupid like that.

He honestly doesn't remember putting Gibbs as his emergency contact on his lease but apparently his building manager does and she calls him. Tony is in the middle of throwing the final bottle when Gibbs appears, laying his hand on his shoulder and telling him to, "Stop, DiNozzo!" And he does because he's mostly a very obedient little senior field agent and he mostly does what the boss tells him. In these seconds he forgets that he's meant to be angry at him.

Gibbs leads him to the sofa and sits him down on it. "You're bleedin', DiNozzo," he says in his soft way and Tony's startled to see the long, jagged wound running down his forearm. He didn't even feel it. Gibbs gets the dishcloth from beside the sink and holds it to the wound, moving Tony's hand on top to keep it in place.

"Come on," he says, moving towards the door. "We're goin' to the hospital."

He follows obediently again, swaying a little from the alcohol in his system. Gibbs notices supports him with his shoulder. "What the hell got into you, Tony?"

Perhaps it's the use of _Tony _instead of DiNozzo, or perhaps it's the alcohol that has loosened his tongue but he finds himself being honest. "Can't live without her."

For a second Gibbs just looks at him with his steely look. Then he sighs and says, "We'll work somethin' out. Don't know what, but we will."

Maybe, just maybe, the second _b _doesn't stand for bastard after all.


	3. I'd Come For You

**Boo! Miss me? Can I just say a big big BIG thank you to all of you wonderful people you have reviewed, followed and favourite and even just simply read. I feel this is my most successful story yet and you guys have made it possible. So thank you so incredibly much. Extra thank you's are due to Rachel (loverofallthingsmusic - I think) and Amy (Shortcake99) for being the bestest Fanfiction friends EVER! And to Allayah, Rebecca and Gracie, for being awesome. As you always are. **

**Disclaimer: Scottish and Ginger and freaking out about the independence referendum. Nope, not mine. **

_So if you're ever lost and_  
_Find yourself all alone_  
_I'd search forever_  
_Just to bring you home_  
_Here and now, it's a vow_

_I'd come for you ~ _Nickelback

At the hospital they fix him up and send him home. _Good as new, _they say, _may scar but not badly. You probably won't even remember how you got it – if you can see it at all. _Hah. The joke is on them, isn't it?

He doesn't go home, or rather Gibbs doesn't let him. Instead he drives him to his own house as Tony rambles on about the hot nurse and how Ellie's hair is golden or how McGee's voice has been a little funny lately. He lets the painkillers run through Tony's system and when they get to Gibbs nondescript house, he tucks Tony up in the spare bed like he's a child and mutters a soft _goodnight _before flicking off the light.

Tony falls asleep right away and maybe it's the day he's had or maybe it'd the painkillers or maybe it's the strange bed but he dreams a dream that he hasn't dreamt in almost five years.

...

_"__Tony." The voice comes from somewhere near the bottom of his bed. It's familiar and soft but he can't place it. "Tony," the voice says again, this time more urgent, more pleading. He manages to peel apart his eyelids and he sees Ziva at the bottom of his bed. She's tinted blue and dripping wet. By all rights there should be a wet patch on his comforter, yet it's curiously dry. _

_"__You're dead, Ziva. I'm dreaming. You aren't here." _

_She sighs like it's obvious. "Of course you are dreaming." She cocks her head curiously. "You really think I'm dead?" _

_"__Well, yeah, Ziva. I've been told you are." He rubs his eyes. They come away wet. _

_She laughs harshly without humour. Then she sighs, like she's so tired of everything. _

_"__What is it?" His voice sounds close to breaking. God, he can't lose it in a dream. _

_"__Huh. I just thought Anthony DiNozzo wouldn't believe everything he was told. Perhaps he is no longer." _

Then he wakes up. She's gone. She was never here.

She's gone.

...

Gibbs is away when he awakes. For a second he wonders why and then he sees the clock and thinks it's maybe something to do with the fact that it's 10:30am. There's a note next to the coffee: _You're out, DiNozzo. _He scratches his head. Yeah, he figured. There's a pain in his arm and he sees the angry red of the stitches. If this is his arm, what does his apartment look like? He shudders slightly and right then the kettle stops boiling and he pours the water in the mug, before realising he hasn't put any coffee in.

He is definitely going crazy.

The dream keeps replaying in his head. _I just thought Anthony DiNozzo wouldn't believe everything he was told. _What the hell does that mean? Of course it was only a dream, but isn't there some psychobabble crap about dreams actually predicting or representing true events? _When have you ever believed in any of that? _Usually he would say never, but lately he's not so sure.

Suddenly there are more pressing things to worry about. If he's not at work, how will he be able to search for information about Ziva? Unless he goes back to his apartment and gets his laptop. Tony winces. He really doesn't want to think about the state of his apartment. Except it has to be sorted sometime so he spends the next twenty minutes gulping down instant coffee, showering and dressing in some clothes he left at Gibbs' house what feels like donkey's years ago.

His apartment is a state. To say there's stains on his cream wall would be an understatement and the same could be said of the broken glass on his floor. Near the sofa there are a few fat spots of blood and he feels a twinge in his arm. In a moment the fury and the pain and the goddam _hurt _from last night all comes rushing back but he is stronger now and will not let it overtake him.

He fetches a broom and pan from the cupboard under the sink and starts to sweep the shards of glass into a pile. Then he gets a trash bag and starts to carefully deposit the shards into it. Once that's done he vacuums the remaining small pieces that he cannot see. With the glass taken care of, he phones his landlord and asks what the name of the paint is that's on his walls. When he asks why, he says that an accident happened with a bottle and he needs to repaint the walls. Honestly, Tony's surprised that the building manager hasn't told his landlord yet, but maybe she's being nice. She's seen him at his worst before.

The paint shop doesn't have the paint shade in stock so he has it ordered in, with the guarantee that it will be here next week. Back at home, he breaks out the sponge, the washing up liquid and the bucket. He boils some water, adds some cold, and then squirts in the green washing up liquid while mixing it up with the sponge. He then gets to work on all of the skirting boards and the floor where his blood was.

Over the next four hours he vacuums, mops, sweeps and dusts every inch of his apartment. He sorts his clothes, he cleans out the fridge. He does everything he can to distract himself from the ache in his chest that grows and grows. Only when everything is clean and done, does he lean against the wall and sob.

He sobs for everything that might've been and never was. He sobs for what was and what can never be.

Most of all, he sobs for her.

...

At four in the afternoon he gets a text from Gibbs that says: _Be here in 10. _

He scrambles to find his keys and his wallet. It's got to be important if Gibbs is letting him back after the impromptu breakdown last night. In the car on the way there, he's so excited, thinking only _he's found a way. You owe Gibbs, DiNozzo, big time. _

In the squadroom he meets Ellie, McGee and Gibbs standing around the plasma. They all look at him as he walks in, their eyes immediately drawn to the angry red line of stitches down his arm. Self-consciously, he rolls down his shirt-sleeves and says, "Whaddaya got?"

Ellie clicks the little clicker thing that he doesn't have a name for. Maybe he's still drunk or maybe he's too damn tired. "We finally got cleared by Mossad to have access into what Ziva was doing. According to the official reports, she was sent to take out an Al Qaeda cell that had a camp in Yemen. She was only temporarily reinstated to Mossad. She volunteered for the mission and the Director allowed it because she was familiar with the terrain."

Sometimes it's like a sucker punch to the gut when he realises just how little he still knows about her. "Uh-huh. And?"

McGee and Ellie share a look before she continues. "When she went missing the Director had a team set up to look for her. They got a possible on her location and sent in an extraction team. They were all killed before they got there – it was a trap. They had nothing else to go on so they had to presume her dead."

There's that lump in his throat again.

"Much like last time, NCIS has heard the chatter of an Al Qaeda cell and of a captive. Except Special Agent Rachel Dumbarton who's in charge over there says that the chatter they hear is often unreliable and that their CIs are often misinformed. She promises they'll investigate but until she comes back to us we can't do much, Tony," McGee says, bowing his head briefly as a sign of respect.

Tony tries not to get his hopes up too much. The brief euphoria he felt was promptly dampened by the fact that it could all be unreliable chatter. The captive may not even be her. It could be a previous Mossad officer, or a different agency from a different country altogether.

"Can we do anything?" Tony asks, desperate to do _something. _All he wants to do is _know. _

"We can informally investigate, Tony, but you know how it is. All we've done is pretty much all we can do."

_All we've done is pretty much all we can do. _

Yeah, that figures.

Except sitting on the side-lines is in direct violation of Tony's rule number one, and sitting around is something he has never been good at. There has got to be something he can do, something he can find out that will make everything right again.

He _will _find her, and what's more, he'll bring her home.


	4. Let Me Get What I Want

**Hi! Thank you oh so much! This is definitely my most successful story yet and I am immensely grateful. If anyone has any song suggestions or quote suggestions I would thank you and give you a cyber cookie. **

**Disclaimer: Nope. **

_Good times for a change_  
_see, the luck I've had_  
_can make a good man_  
_turn bad_  
~The Smiths 'Please Please Please Let Me Get What I want'

Finding her is more difficult than first anticipated.

To launch a mission to rescue Ziva David, it first needs to be established that Ziva David is in fact the one that needs to be rescued.

So he does.

He e-mails all her known accounts; asking her just to send one word that would let him know she was okay and not being held captive or decaying under the desert sun. He wastes precious satellite time looking at the Al Qaeda camp in Aden – or he would, if he could find it. He sends letters to her house in Israel, to Mossad, because there's always the tiny possibility that they're lying to him. Or that McGee was wrong. That Ziva is back and safe and Mossad just forgot to update their files or maybe McGee clicked something wrong or something.

Except something tells him that Mossad isn't that careless and McGee is much smarter than that.

McGee, bless him, tries to help. He runs searches, tries hacking into Mossad several more times, he buys Tony another coffee from Starbucks and refuses the five dollars Tony shoves at him. In the end Tony stuffs it in his wallet when McGee leaves it unattended.

He can't afford to owe anyone anymore.

Ellie helps McGee, even though she really has no obligation to. She didn't know Ziva, but she knows how Tony feels and for a probie she's astute and not so green that she knows what to do without being told in this situation. And every so often she'll smile at Tony and mouth _Stay hopeful. _

Gibbs spends a lot of time in the Director's office. Doing what, Tony doesn't know and he doesn't think he'll ask. Every so often he'll come out and say, "When one way doesn't work, DiNozzo, you gotta try another." Then he disappears back upstairs with another sheet of paperwork.

One day, Ellie finds Tony banging his head off the vending machine in the break room after a particularly trying phone conversation with Mossad's version of customer services, which is none to say the least. After managing to calm him down enough to sit down at the table with the half a dozen candy bars he's managed to dislodge from the machine, she asks him, "What was she like?"

He looks up from cradling his head in his arms. "What was who like?"

"Ziva."

With her name he wants to bang his head off the wall again. Except Ellie is looking at him so sweetly and she's asking him because she doesn't know at all and it's good to talk about Ziva when it doesn't involve how they parted ways.

"She was… unique. Crazy ninja, could kick-ass like nobody's business. Her weapon's collection could put our armoury to shame. Except she was also compassionate. She had feelings and she was loyal. No matter what anybody says about her, Ziva David was loyal to us. And that time I lost her, 2009, made me doubt her, just for a second, but it was enough. "

He doesn't realise how ferocious he sounds until he realises that Ellie has backed away from him ever so slightly. He shakes his head, trying to shake out his feelings. The anger is starting to sear through his chest again and he takes deep, cooling breaths to tamper it down.

Tony looks at Ellie and sees her take a deep breath, as if asking her next question. "How many times have you almost lost her, Tony?"

He barks out a harsh, humourless laugh. "Too many to count."

"What was the worst?"

He doesn't even need to think about it. "Five years ago, without a doubt. I hate everything about that summer. Knowing that she was alive and hating me was one thing, but knowing she died hating me was completely different. I felt like… like I lost everything. I lost every chance to make it right, you know? When I heard, I drove my car to the Potomac and just sat there for like an hour. Some kid was playing with his toy boat in the water, and then there was this huge surge and the boat went under. I almost lost it. In that moment I forgave her for everything and I liked to have thought she done the same. Then we got her back." He takes a breath, because he's never admitted this to anyone, not even Ziva. Maybe it's because Ellie is young and looks up to him, or maybe it's because she's a stranger to these events, a kind stranger who he knows will always listen.

He feels a warm hand on his. "What about the other times, were any of them as scary or as bad?" She asks, gently curious.

"None of them have ever been as bad as that. But next was when NCIS was bombed and her and I were in the elevator. You've heard of that right? About the bombing?" She nods. "She fell on top of me and when the dust settled she was on top of me and she wasn't moving and I was so scared and felt so guilty because the one time she was with me and I couldn't even protect her. I was her partner for God's sake!"

He's close to crying now so he stops and rests his head in his hands. Ellie doesn't move, doesn't even shift the pressure of her hand atop is.

And they just sit.

…

When he finally manages to head down to Abby's lab after three days of trying his hardest to avoid her, he receives a bone-crushing hug and then a skull-breaking head slap. In that order.

"What the hell, DiNozzo? I was so worried about you! I made Timmy check that you hadn't driven your car off a cliff! Why didn't you come and see me? Yeah, I get that you would want to be alone but you can't leave me to hear the news like that second-hand! The news that one of your friends is dead and that the other is in a suicidal state is not news you get when your other friend mentions it in passing because he thought you knew! You should have told me, Tony!"

And with that she bursts into tears.

Tony wants to say a lot of things to her, he really does. He wants to say sorry, sorry that he hasn't been down here in a while. He wants to cry with her because the thought of Ziva being dead upsets him deeply. He wants to say that he is so, bone-deep sorry that he didn't tell her himself because he couldn't even bear to face McGee's oh so sorry face in the bullpen never mind Abby's tears of pain and looks of sympathy that would of come had he told her the news himself.

He's weak. Yes, he knows.

He hugs her then, and mumbles into her jet black hair, "I'm sorry, Abs. I'm really sorry."

"It's okay, DiNozzo," she mumbles into his shirt. "I forgive you."

And he's really bloody glad about that.

…

It takes seven days.

Seven days for Gibbs to argue his point with the director, for McGee and Ellie to gather enough information on the cell and seven days for Special Agent Rachel Dumbarton to confirm the presence of a cell and, most importantly, the presence of a captive.

It takes seven days for Tony to lose his mind.

From there it's all uphill. Or downhill. Depending on which one is good. The director holds several meetings. They are about valid reasons to go into the region (Still need to be determined, but there seems to be a few petty ones that could add up). They are about psychological counselling before going on this mission. (Hah, no chance. No psychologist would sign off on him with his state of mind.)

And most importantly, they are about what to do once they get there.

"I want you to understand, Agent DiNozzo, that if this captive does not turn out to be Ms David, you must act objectively and impartially and carry out the same mission you were sent to do."

He nods dumbly. Of course he will. He will destroy whoever this vile cell belongs to and whoever the captive is. He's not that cruel. If the captive isn't Ziva then he will still rescue whoever the hell it is. But he cannot promise to be objective and he cannot promise to be impartial. Because at the end of the day he'll still have a broken heart and the mission still will have been all for her.

In the end, everything has always been for her.

…

Ten days and one psychological counselling session later, he finds himself on a C-17 _Globemaster III_ to Aden in Yemen.

The ride is bumpy and the wall of the aircraft digs uncomfortably into his spine. Gibbs and McGee sit across from him, eyeing him warily. Between them they have enough weapons and bullet-resistant garments to put Ziva to shame. Probably. This mission will not be like last time. This will be an in, grab captive, get out.

His stomach feels uneasy. Something tells him that whatever happens, if something happens, it will be his own doing. It will be karma. His mind tells him that it was not his fault. Ziva chose to let him go. _Ziva _chose to walk away.

_Ziva _chose to break his heart.

Even still, sometimes he wonders if they didn't fight hard enough and let her go.


	5. A Hole In The World

**(Amy I did it!) Thank you all so much for your kind reviews and your follows and favourites. It means the world to me. We have now hit thirty reviews for four chapters and while that might not be much for some of you, it means a lot to me. Thank you so much. All of you. If you have any suggestions, I'm always open to them. **

**Disclaimer: Sadly not. However the night is still young as am I. **

_"__Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime, and falling in at night_."

~Edna St. Vincent Millay

_Clear. _

_Clear. _

_Clear. _

With each passing 'clear' he loses hope. The compound is a maze of small brick, one storey buildings that are covered in years of sand and dust. The place looks deserted, with no sign of life and while that's good, it's also bad. With no sign of life, it also could mean that there is no hostage here.

Or worse.

Eventually there's only one building left. It's bigger than the others but seems just as deserted. The door is wooden and it doesn't make as satisfying a noise as it should when Tony kicks it open.

There are no people in here either. The place is dark and abandoned. They walk down a corridor that splits two ways. Gibbs and McGee go one way; Ellie and Tony go the other. They hesitate before kicking down the door and wait for Gibbs and McGee's signal. When the _clear _comes, Tony pins all his hopes on the fact that _someone _must be in here.

He kicks down the door and hears it splinter behind him, but he feels no joy. It sounds like another piece of his heart has finally fallen away. By the end of this, he wonders just how much will be left. His eyes flit around the room, looking for someone hidden in the shadows created by the slither of light allowed in. Eventually, he sinks to his knees and hears Ellie mumble _clear _somewhere above him. The darkness is closing in and he feels tightness in his chest.

The room is empty.

…

They begin to scout the area around the compound for traces of where the cell disappeared to or any other buildings. The heat sears the flesh on the back of his neck and all he can smell is sand and sweat. The SEALS they brought with them crawl around the place like flies and he wishes with all his heart he could go back to last year and stop her from leaving. He wishes for a do-over, even though he knows there are no such things.

You know what they say. Hindsight is always 20/20.

"It's okay, Tony. Maybe they moved the camp. We'll find her. I can feel it," Ellie says beside him. She looks too young to be dressed in the desert khaki with her gun strapped across her chest. Like a child dressing up in soldiers clothes. Too young for the game of war.

It takes everything he has to remind himself that she's not so young, and after almost a year of being with them, she's grown up a lot.

They stop to hydrate themselves and to make sure the area is secure. Tony sees something almost ten feet away; too perfectly shaped to be an accident. "Over here," he calls, jogging over to it as best as his kit will allow.

It's a mound of sand-like earth that's too perfectly-shaped and too rectangular to be an accident. In a single, horrifying second, he realises what this is.

It's a grave.

Immediately he's on his hands and knees scraping through the thin earth just to get one glimpse, one shot at seeing her again. He ignores the cries of the other behind him, because they must know he will not possibly stop until his hands are scratched and bleeding into the dust. They must know that he will not believe it's true until he has proof and that this is what he is searching for. Real, tangible proof that will allow him to embrace insanity and allow him to be devastated and allow his heart to shatter into a million pieces.

Like the shards of glass that dominated his apartment floor not too long ago.

His hands hit something. Tony's blood turns to ice and with one sweep of his hand, one little tiny sweep, the sand shifts and something white glints in the afternoon sun.

He wants to vomit.

"Come on, Tony. Let's go." Gibbs touches a hand to his shoulder. He's maybe the only one who knows quite what he's feeling. "She's gone."

Tony bows his head and feels something stir in his chest.

"She's gone."

…

The SEALS take DNA samples to send back to NCIS. Without the sand to conceal it, the stench of decay and decomposition makes him want to gag. It's getting dark and Gibbs along with some Marines are pitching the tents and trying to establish a connection with the Yemen field office with the help of McGee and Ellie.

He feels so useless, but he couldn't do anything, even if he wanted to.

The stars are so bright out here. He's never noticed before. The last time he was in the desert for a night he wasn't exactly looking up at the sky. It really is beautiful out here. There's no light from streetlamps, no pollution from cars, nothing to cloud the stars that are like pinpricks in the blackness that is the sky.

"Tony! The connection's up, Abby's online!" McGee shouts from the tent.

Wearily, he stands up and makes his way over to the tent. He's been avoiding it all afternoon because he can't stand the sympathy looks and the condolences and the pats on the back that are thrown his way. Inside it's almost cheery with the camp lamps and the smell of someone making dinner. Gibbs, McGee and Ellie are huddled around a laptop screen that bears Abby's bright face. Inside, it makes him feel glad.

"Hey, Tony! Glad to see you've joined us! So have you guys stormed the bad guys' compound yet? Or are you doing that in the morning? Can you get the SEALS to wear those cameras on their helmets so I can watch it from my lab? I want to get popcorn and watch it when you kill the bad guys?"

Off camera, Tony whispers to McGee, "You haven't told her yet?"

"No. We didn't want to upset her just yet, Tony. We just got her online."

"Who's gonna tell her?"

McGee inclines his head towards Gibbs.

"Abs," he says softly in that way he does when he has bad news. "I have something to tell you."

…

Dinner was surprisingly good, considering that Gibbs made it and steak seems to be his only forte. The desert is cold at night and he shivers beneath his sleeping bag. He wants to say this reminds him of a movie, but not a single thing can compare to what he is feeling right now.

And so he falls asleep, with the heart-breaking sound of Abby's sobs ringing in his ears.


	6. You Are My Sunshine

**I know you guys didn't like the last chapter. And neither did I. Hopefully you'll like this one better. I have a feeling you will. Thank you for 36 reviews. It really does make me happy!**

**Disclaimer: Nope. **

_You are my sunshine, my only sunshine_  
_You make me happy when skies are grey_  
_You'll never know dear, how much I love you_  
_Please don't take my sunshine away_

~Willie Nelson- 'You Are My Sunshine'

The ride back to the US is long and as much as he tries, he cannot sleep. He has done this once before and the sleep he had was filled with water and sand and somewhere in the middle of it all he loses her all over again. Gibbs, McGee and Ellie watch him carefully from the other side of the plane. Between them lies a wooden box.

A wooden box is too simple for her.

Stupidly, he thought he would be making this ride back with her. He thought that Ziva would be with them and that everything would be somehow righted. Something would have just clicked back into place and he would everything would be okay once again.

Oh how wrong and oh so stupid he was.

…

Gibbs drives Tony back to his house instead of Tony's apartment. Given a blanket and a pillow he is directed to the guest room. He doesn't even bother to flick on the light before he collapses on the bed, unfurls the blanket and lies down, waiting to escape to the realm of sleep.

He can't. All he sees is that white shard of bone glinting in the sun and the feeling of wanting to be sick stirs in his chest once more. He can't go to NCIS tomorrow. He can't face them. He can't face himself. Maybe he'll become Gibbs. Alone with boats. His apartment isn't big enough to build a boat and he wouldn't even know where to start.

It just seems like another tally in the list of failures. It seems like if he took each one and stretched them out, they'd last forever.

Although he rejected them at first, maybe he should go to those group sessions that help if you've lost someone. He didn't want to go before because he didn't feel like he had really lost her. She was still out there, somewhere in the world and he could always find her. She was safe and he had the knowledge of knowing that he would see her again some-day.

Except now she'd gone forever and all he's left with is sand in his shoes and a broken heart.

…

He awake when the clock in the guest room reads 12:07pm. His head is pounding and his heart is aching but he manages to peel himself from the bed and make it to the shower. Then the kitchen. Then to the sofa where he lies and looks at the ceiling.

_Small steps. One at a time. _

His phone buzzes with a text from McGee. _Needed at Abby's lab. ASAP. _

He doesn't want to go see Abby. Not because he doesn't want to comfort her and not because he's mad or anything like that. He doesn't want to see her because she does what he can't. She _mourns_. _Openly. _And a little part of him envies that.

Even so he manages to get himself into his car which is parked outside Gibbs' house (God bless the man for having forethought) and manages to make it to the Navy Yard. He's glad there's no traffic and no delays because driving gives him something to focus on, something to ground him. Traffic and delays make him still and give the demons in his head free reign.

When he walks into Abby's lab, he sees that she's not as distraught as he thought she would be. In fact, she's not distraught at all.

"Tony!" She cries, teetering over to him in her platform boots. She hugs him then and it's comfort and warmth and, although it sounds stupid, it's a thing to live for. "Are you okay? Well of course you're not okay but are you holding up? I brought some of my Grammy's apple pie for you. Do you like apple? 'Cause she has a recipe for berry too."

"Abs," McGee says, "why don't you tell him why we called him in here?"

"Right!" she nods, affirming. "Well here's the great news: the DNA you gave me? It's not Ziva's!"

Suddenly the world is spinning and he has to steady himself against Abby's table. "Whose is it?" He manages to croak out.

"Well the DNA is a 12.5% match which is consistent to what you would find between first cousins."

"So the-"he can't even say it, "who we found, that was Ziva's cousin?"

"Well yeah. Assuming Ziva has a cousin. But she must, 'cause DNA doesn't lie, Tony."

"Of course this doesn't prove that Ziva's alive," McGee says.

Oh she's alive. He can feel it, because it never felt like she was truly dead.

…

The first thing he wants to do is make a phone call to the Director of Mossad and find out exactly why Ziva's cousin was in the same place that Ziva was sent.

Except of course Gibbs stops him.

"Can't let you do this, Tony."

"We have to! She knows, Gibbs. If anyone knows, she does and we can't let her keep secrets from us if it's about Ziva!"

"Tony, if you go shake her up she's not going to tell us anything again."

Deep down Tony knows he's right. This could damage the very delicate, thread-thin relationship that Mossad and NCIS have. A part of him doesn't care. This is about Ziva. Damn everything else. Including Gibbs rules. Especially Gibbs rules.

"Who was Ziva's cousin?" is the first thing he says to Orli. The MTAC screen emphasises the bags under her eyes and the lines around her mouth. She looks tired.

"I do not understand what you are talking about, Agent DiNozzo. Or whom for that matter."

"The body we recovered at the compound. DNA is a match for Ziva's first cousin. Any idea who that might be? And don't bullshit me, Orli. I want you to be straight with me."

She sighs and shuffles around papers on her desk. Buying time but actually just delaying the inevitable. "Ziva's cousin was Officer Adine Mizrahi. She was a _Kidon _operative, Agent DiNozzo, one of the best we had. I am glad we finally know what happened to her."

The false feeling irks him and he can feel the anger like an acid breeze threatening to choke him. "What was she doing on Ziva's mission?"

Orli looks straight at him. "Actually, Agent DiNozzo, Ziva was on Officer Mizrahi's mission. It was a _rescue _mission. Do you not remember the video message from Ziva?"

_This is for a very old friend, who has lost more than I ever have. She deserves this, and I will do it no matter what. _

Suddenly it's clear. "What was Officer Mizrahi's mission?" He stumbles over the unfamiliar syllables of the surname.

"Her mission was to take out the Al Qaeda cell. When we heard no word from her, I contacted Ziva as her next of kin. She volunteered to go and finish Adine's mission and rescue her if need be. Obviously the mission was unsuccessful. She re-shuffles papers on her desk and looks at him with fire in her eyes and speaks with ice in her voice. "No matter what you think of me, Agent DiNozzo, I do care for Ziva and I did not leave her in the desert. We have to be careful in that area. We cannot afford anymore enemies. And no, I did not take that long to rescue her because of politics. They reinforced their guard; they made it harder for us, Tony."

The first name usage both annoys him and softens him. He believes her. He can see the sincerity and he can see that she is genuinely sorry for what has happened to her extraction team, her lover's daughter and one of her best officers.

"One more question, Director Elbaz. Do you think Ziva is dead?"

A sigh comes loud and crackly over the speakers. "Agent DiNozzo, for Ziva to have survived this for a second time, I think it would take a miracle." And then she cuts off.

It doesn't fill him with hope. When even the Director of Mossad thinks she couldn't have survived it. But when has the thoughts of the Director of Mossad stopped him anyway?

…

"Tony, I think I got something!" McGee calls to him from below the catwalk.

"Spill it, McFinder!" He shouts the nickname a little more harsh-sounding than intended. McGee doesn't even rise to it and Tony realises that he owes the probie big time. It's a little hard to swallow and acknowledge that McGee isn't a probie anymore.

"When we got back I looked at the satellite images from the past seven days and I managed to find when the camp moved." McGee moves it to the plasma. "Two days ago. They moved South West."

"You're great, McGee! Can we find out where they went?"

From his desk, Gibbs watches him wearily with narrowed eyes. And Tony just knows that Gibbs knows he defied Gibbs and did whatever the hell he wanted anyway. He'll pay for it later, but right now he doesn't care/

"Tony, I don't think we'll need to," McGee stutters and at the apprehension in his voice, both Ellie and Gibbs slowly move from their desks and to the plasma, where McGee is about to play the satellite video.

"I asked NSA to send this over once I looked at the stills, Tony. Look at this figure right here," McGee says, zooming in on whom he means.

The figure is being led out of one of the back doors of the compound, each wrist held roughly by two people flanking them on either side. One lets go and opens the door of a vehicle (which Tony thinks is a stupid move for a terrorist, you don't leave someone with a free hand) and the captive kicks the other's legs out from underneath them and knocks them out with a punch. Using that person's gun, the captive gun's down person number two and takes their gun too. They bend down and take their water flasks and food satchels and load them into the vehicle, before getting in and driving off at full speed.

"Is that-?" Ellie mutters.

"Yup," Tony says. "That's her!"

He only knows one person who could do ninja moves like that and get away with it.

"How on earth did she manage to get away? Surely the other guys must have heard the gunshot. Even if they are on the other side of the building."

"Weather reports say a storm was coming. It could've been silenced by the wind. Or they might've heard it but it was too late by the time they got there. Look at the speed in which she drives off." McGee sounds in awe.

"Someone should tell Abby," Gibbs says.

McGee will do that. Or Gibbs. But Tony has a more important job to do. He needs to find out where she went.

….

For the second time in an hour, he finds himself having an MTAC conversation with Orli.

"I cannot believe she managed to do it," she mutters, after watching the footage. "I cannot believe she managed to escape."

"That's what she was trained for, Orli. But this wasn't a social call. I need your help. Our tech guy said that she drove in North. Is there any reason why? There are only a few towns and villages where she was heading."

Orli suddenly looks interested. "North East or North West?"

He's confused. "Does it matter?"

"Agent DiNozzo, just answer the question!"

He has a feeling he has poked the bear just enough and perhaps too often. "East. Why?"

She looks… pleased. "There is a small village North East. It is barely acknowledged on a map. It is very useful for deep cover missions because of that. Mossad has a safe house there. There are weapons there, along with emergency rations of food and water because of the village's location. There are not, however, any phones or signal. Like I said, it is used for deep cover only."

He feels so deliriously happy. "Orli, where is this village?"

For once, things are starting to look up.


	7. If You Stay

**This chapter isn't my favourite. It was very last minute and for that I apologise profusely but you know how it goes. Did you know that for each chapter I get exactly seven reviews? Except Chapter five, which I hated too so I'll forgive you. I predict six for this one too. The quote is actually one of my favourite quotes ever. Seriously, I love it so much. Thanks for your follows, reviews and things. Also can I just say how freaked out I was when I saw that AliyahNCIS had reviewed this. I was so happy. Anyway. Thank you!**

**Disclaimer: Nope, and nope to Mary Poppins too. Or If I Stay. Just covering all bases. **

**Thanks: Ammyyyyyy! You truly are the best.**

_"__If you stay, I'll do whatever you want. I'll quit the band, go with you to New York. But if you need me to go away, I'll do that, too. I was talking to Liz and she said maybe coming back to your old life would be too painful, that maybe it'd be easier for you to erase us. And that would suck, but I'd do it. I can lose you like that if I don't lose you today. I'll let you go. If you stay."_

~Gayle Forman - 'If I Stay'

It hurts. Everything just… hurts. The light hurts her eyes but the darkness scares her. It feels like nothing can be good. Once she promised herself that she wouldn't get captured alive. Once she promised that she wouldn't let it happen again.

Looks like she was wrong twice.

The wound she got while fighting the Al Qaeda cell the first time is infected. The skin is red, inflamed and tracks are starting to crawl away from it like spider's legs. It's blood poisoning, and the First Aid kit left here by herself long ago is intermediate at best. The only thing to do now is make herself comfortable and prepare for the end. Nobody knows she is here and it's part blessing, part curse.

She just wishes she could say sorry.

Sorry to… well everyone. She never should have sent Tony that message, but she was trying to make things right. Trying to help. Although it had the same effect as a plaster would on a bullet wound. She just wanted it to be better.

It's taken her a while to realise that she could never run away from this life, never abandon it, because this life is her. An assassin, a federal agent – the title doesn't matter. She's always been who she's always been. And six months in Israel hadn't changed that. Rather it just intensified the longing she had for her old life. Which was stupid, considering she was the one who walked away.

The wound keeps bleeding. It won't be long now. Good. In thirty-one years all she's ever had is loss. Her mother, Tali, Ari, her father, Adine. Adine. She heard them kill her. She heard them torture her older cousin and then put a bullet through her head. She saw the grave on her escape out from the camp. She's not stupid; she knows those terrorists had no mercy. If you bury a body, then you don't need to deal with it decomposing and rotting.

The bed is lumpy and her last thought is of the sound of the gun that killed her cousin when something violent seizes her and the world bleeds into darkness.

…

"Perimeter is clear, Tony. You can go."

With permission granted, Tony jumps out of the truck and rattles on the door of the safe house. Another three days of planning have come down to this. She needs to be here. If she's not he doesn't know what he'll do.

Nobody answers but there are signs of habitation. Fresh footprints in the doorway, an open window, a curtain that isn't as dusty as the one next to it. He knows she's here. He just knows it.

Without thinking he breaks down the door. Ignoring the splinters falling around him, he takes in the first room of the small house. It's empty but further down the hall there's a sigh and so with McGee behind him (the probie always has good timing) he moves there, steadily but without wasting time. Hopefully he'll reach his goal.

It's Ziva. And that's the first thing he notices. Then he notices the blood and the way she is so very still. McGee radios for a MEDEVAC and Tony checks for a pulse. It's there, fainter than a child's footprint on a dusty floor but it's there.

"Hey, Ziva?" Her hand is warm. "Please don't give up yet. I know life sucks right now and I know that it's probably at its worst but we're here for you. And it'll be better than last time. I won't say we're gonna be there and then we won't but this time we will. I promise."

A movie quote comes to him now. Mary Poppins with Julie Andrews and Dick Van Dyke. The scene where the children promise to be good if Mary Poppins stays with them forever. And she says that what they're making is a pie-crust promise: easily made and easily broken.

He can't help feel like he's making one to her.

….

It all passes in a blur. Like in the movies when it goes dark and then the scene opens with a heart monitor beeping and the hero is lying on the hospital bed.

It's rather like that. Luckily they managed to get Ziva stable before the blood poisoning got too far. They also cleaned all of her new wounds and it makes his blood boil that they had to.

They trickle in one by one. Abby, Ducky, McGee, Ellie, and Gibbs. Tony's never far away. Either in the cafeteria or in the waiting room or the patient garden outside. It's just so surreal, having her here but not quite. She's back but not really. After everything she's done and seen, why would she want to stay? He also doesn't know why she would want to leave.

He doesn't know if he could lose her again, but then it's never been his choice to make.

…

Is she dead?

It's her first thought, her first conscious, clear thought. She wishes she's dead. What is there to live for? Hope? Pft. What hope is left for her now? She cannot walk away from this life, because it's the only one she knows.

When she was around fifteen, just before her mother died, Ziva had a friend who was dying of cancer. Her name was Aza and she was the most realist person Ziva had ever met. Her mother had always wanted Aza to be more positive about her diagnosis, do what those 'positive teenagers' did and set up a charity or run a race or do something inspiring. And Aza used to roll her eyes at her mother and say:

"Why must I be positive and inspiring and good? Why must I be what Ima says I should? Surely, when you are dying of cancer, it is okay to be negative and sad. This must be the point where it's okay to be unhappy. It is good that all those teenagers are doing good things like that but I don't want to be that person, Ziva. I want to be a normal person for as long as I can before my parents are sitting Shiva for me and there's a candle for me at school. I want to be normal, Ziva. What is so wrong with that?"

Aza had died five weeks after that conversation. For a long time Ziva understood. Then when she became Mossad and that fifteen year old no longer existed, she didn't. She couldn't understand why Aza let herself be so unhappy. How she could be so selfish to wallow in her own self-pity. It was a while before she realised she was doing that herself. She's allowed her unhappiness to consume her and others. She's allowed it to affect her decisions, her thoughts, her hope for the future.

Of course there are plenty of things to be unhappy about, but she's let it side-track her from the good things in her life. The team. Tony. The blossoms in spring and snow in the winter. The old woman called Naya at the kosher food store who saves her best Challah loaf every Friday for Ziva. The fact that she can still call America and Israel home. These are the good things in her life and she must savour them, or else they might disappear.

She's afraid they already might have.

…

He's not there when she wakes up.

He's in the bathroom, washing his face with the tepid tap water when McGee bursts in saying, "She's awake!"

Quicker then he even thought was possible, Tony's in her room and in the chair next to her bed that he's kept vigil in for three days. "Hey, glad to see you're awake."

Her eyes have that sleepy quality that he loves so much about her, and her eyelashes create shadows against the smooth canvas of her face. It's in this second he realises how truly beautiful she is, and how much he really doesn't want her to go.

"Hello," she raps. "It is good to see you."

It's nothing complex, nothing more than a few words. Except between them it's a bridge, an olive branch and if it's nothing else, at least it's a start.


	8. Family

**I know this is disjointed and fragmented. I know. But it's all in Ziva's head and Ziva's all over the place so it's meant to be like that. I promise. Thank you SOO much for your reviews. **

**Disclaimer: Nope.**

_**Evil Queen**__: Gone. I told them you abandoned them, leaving nothing but a compass to find their way, but I didn't bring you here to answer your questions. You're here to answer mine. I offered your children everything, whatever their hearts desired, and they still chose uncertainty because of their blind faith in you. Tell me why. Why did your children refuse me?__**Woodcutter**__: Because we're a family, and family always finds one another._

~Once Upon A Time

It's a week later when she's released from the hospital. Autumn is steadily turning to winter and the leaves aren't so much red and golden as they are brown and turning to mush on the pavements. Autumn is beautiful and winter is grey and dreary. The beauty is gone, and all that remains is the cold.

Her apartment is still hers. It would have been too hard, to let go of it so suddenly when she tried so hard to make it her home. Her father had died with one child, instead of three, which left her with a lot of money and nothing to spend it on. She left it in her American bank account and kept on paying for her apartment, updating the lease when necessary.

The dust is oddly comforting when she walks in. It's draped like a fine blanket over everything. Her piano, the purple cushions on her sofa that took scrolling through fifty pages online for and the photos she left standing on her coffee table. She never expected to be gone so long. She never really expected anything. Her plan was to go to Israel and that was as far as she got.

She hasn't seen Tony since that first day in the hospital. She supposes he's still readjusting to the fact that she's back. Ziva doesn't blame him. How can she? She doesn't want to see him either. Not in that way, but she's too ashamed of how they left things. How she never called. And how she said goodbye.

Everything is just so complicated now she's alive. She never really expected to be. What will she do now? There's a part of her that feels she doesn't want to go back to Israel, but there's also another part that doesn't stay here. It doesn't feel right, being here, yet she cannot just leave. They've saved her again and she owes them. Leaving would be cruel and heartless and would be the choice of the person she was, not the person she is. But does she really need to stay? They've moved on, they're happy without her.

Does she really have any right to change that?

. . .

"Ziva?"

The voice is muffled by the sound of the door but she knows who it is. He shouldn't be here. Nobody should be here.

"Gibbs. Come in."

He walks in and takes a look around. There's only one lamp shining in the corner. "How ya feeling?"

She sighs. She's so tired of that question. "I am fine, thank you. Is there anything I can do for you?"

Gibbs stands in the centre of her living room with his long black coat on, making him seem ominous and menacing. "Nope. Just wanted to see how you were doing."

She cannot understand why. She is no longer his concern, no longer his problem. She's been away too long to understand that it's just human decency. That even a stranger would probably check up on someone if they were hurt. With Gibbs though, it's always been so much more.

"I am doing well, thank you. I am sorry it is so untidy. I was not expecting company," she says. All things considered, it's amazing how well she lies. There is no pause, no hesitation in her words.

"I don't care about cleanliness, Ziva. I care about you."

"Yeah, well you shouldn't." It comes from nowhere. Flies out of her mouth before she can even process and think about how brutally honest it is, even for her.

"Ziva…" He says softly, walking towards her with an arm outstretched.

"I mean it! I left, Gibbs. I left. You don't have to care about me. You don't need to pretend." She's shaking. Look at what she's become. Someone who shakes when she shouts. Not from fury, from fear. Is it possible to be weaker?

He says nothing and the few seconds is enough to get her head back together.

"You should go," she says, trying to keep her voice steady and even. It's too hard. "Go!"

And so he does. And even though it's what she wanted. She didn't.

…

The nights have always been the hardest. For as long as she can remember, the nights are when she sees the faces of her demons. In the dark they have names and lives and people who care about them. They are her siblings, her friends, her mother, her father and even herself.

Breathing heavily, she sits up and flicks on the lamp beside her bed. Her bedroom is the only thing that isn't feeling as comforting to her as the rest of her apartment. With shaky fingers she reaches down the side of her bed and finds comfort as her fingers graze the side of her gun. Her breathing evens out and she stands up, her legs feeling like jelly.

4am is actually quite pretty. The streetlights and lights from the tall, corporate buildings making the whole thing picture-perfect. She wishes she had a camera. She took one to Israel but left it at her house. It's not even really her house. It was her father's bought with Mossad's money. He gave it to them as a safe house when they moved out when she was younger. Now it belongs to nobody. It's a ghost of a house, the same way she's just a ghost of a person.

All good things are disappearing these days.

Everything hurts… it just hurts. Not always physically but mentally. It hurts to think, it hurts breathe. It hurts to live. She wanted to die. Why couldn't he just let her? Why couldn't he have been delayed or couldn't find her? She wanted to die. Now she doesn't know. It could go either way at this point.

She's hungry but has no food. She never even thought of grocery shopping. How stupid. How numb. Everything's just crumbling around her. Everything's disappearing. Herself included. She's a ghost that feels pain all the time.

She sits down on the sofa and buries her face in her hands and sobs. Just sits there and sobs.

Look at what she has become.


	9. True Colours

**Hey! Only six reviews on the last chapter but hey-ho. What can you do? This was meant to have a Tony/Ziva conversation in it but I moved that to the next chapter so it wouldn't be too cluttered with two conversations. With that being said I really like this chapter and I hope you do too. It was a bit challenging but I'm kinda proud of it. Please review if you like! Thanks!**

**Disclaimer: Nope. **

_But I see your true colors  
Shining through  
I see your true colors  
And that's why I love you  
So don't be afraid to let them show  
Your true colors  
True colors are beautiful,  
Like a rainbow_

_'True Colors' Cyndi Lauper_

It all still feels surreal. Yet it doesn't. It feels like it could be real, but it might not be. It feels solid, yet you better not touch it in case it crumbles under your fingers and you wake up in reality.

He's quite ashamed that he hasn't been to see her yet. It's not that he hasn't wanted to; it's that he's afraid if he does, it won't be as good as he always thought it would be. He's toyed with the idea of her being alive for so long that when it turned out to actually be true, he was scared of what might happen. Of what _will _happen if he doesn't go see her. Except now it's been too long and he's nervous of what will happen if he shows up with no real excuse of why he's been gone so long.

Gibbs comes into the squadroom, slams down his coffee cup and says, "Tony! Stop you're daydreaming and go see if Abby's made any progress on our victim's clothes yet."

Tony knows he went to see Ziva yesterday, and he can tell from the look on his face that it didn't go so well. Nobody's heard from her, nobody's seen her. He hopes she hasn't shut herself up in her apartment but he thinks it's all too likely.

He also thinks that she's probably pissed at him. She wanted to start over, have a new life and he brought her back when she probably didn't want to. Or she wasn't ready to. Granted it was for a good reason (to save her life) but it may have infringed upon her newly-found freedom. Or the freedom she left to save her cousin. He's got himself confused.

It doesn't excuse his behaviour though. He should've gone and seen her before now. It was a mistake. One he now plans to make right.

…

It's around the time of turning the thermostat up and getting dressed that she realises that she has no winter clothes.

It's a crippling realisation because it also means that she must physically go out and buy some, something for which she is completely not ready. Strangers would look at her and think _why is that woman so thin and drawn? Why does she wear a long coat in the middle of a warm shop? She must be a victim of abuse. _And she is, but she's a victim of herself.

Maybe she'll order online. Except she doesn't have a computer or a phone, she left all of those things in Israel in her Haifa apartment near where her Aunt Nettie lives. The thought of her Aunt Nettie brings tears to her eyes. It had been nice, to see her so often after almost eight years of not seeing her at all. The women had started having tea together on Thursday mornings and enjoying mundane activities such as shopping and swimming and normal, ordinary things. The Ziva who left Israel all those years ago would never have dreamed of being satisfied by such ordinary activities, had never understood how somebody could live like that. Except almost a decade later, Ziva understood. She was tired of fighting.

A knock on her door brings her out of her reverie. She hopes it's not Gibbs, especially after the disastrous attempt at talking yesterday. It shouldn't be anyone else, they're at work and there are more important things than the likes of her. She's safe and definitely not going anywhere. That much has been established.

She shuffles to answer it. Her socks rub uncomfortably against the hardwood floor of her apartment after her feet going so long barefoot. She was barefoot when she escaped and it's only now that the cuts and grazes on the soles of her feet start to hurt. Before now, she hadn't walked more than a few paces in five weeks. She hadn't done much exercise beyond breathing. Everything is just so taxing now.

Looking through the peephole she sees the person is turned away from the door. Their hair is mid-length and blonde, and they stand clutching a laptop in one hand and a KlipFresh food container. With a start she realises that this must be her replacement.

She scrapes her hair into a bun and discards the blanket that was around her shoulders, trying to look semi-presentable. Opening the door she clears her throat and says, "Hello?"

"Oh, hi," Ellie Bishop turns around and transfers her food container to her other hand before holding it out to shake. "I'm Eleanor Bishop. But just call me Ellie, or Bishop, or whatever. I'm not really fussed."

Ziva steps back and opens the door wider. "Please, come in."

Suddenly the younger woman is nervous and hastily tries to explain herself. "Oh I didn't come here to be invited in. I don't want to infringe upon your privacy or make you feel awkward. I just came to drop of these," she gestures to her hands, "and say that I am really glad you're alive. I was going to get you a card but they don't exactly have a Hallmark card for that."

Ziva smiles softly. "That's alright. Please come in, though. I promise you're not infringing upon anything."

Ellie walks in and sits down gingerly on the sofa, careful to avoid the cushion as if she might damage it merely by sitting next to it.

"Sorry for the mess," Ziva apologises, "I wasn't really expecting company."

"That's okay, I'm only here to give you these. I don't really mind about the mess. Besides, I'm sure you've had other things to worry about."

It doesn't escape either woman's attention just how awkward the air is in here. They don't know each other, they have lead very different lives, yet they have one very important thing in common. Team Gibbs as affectionately dubbed by Abby. This is their common ground.

Ellie holds out her KlipFresh food container. "Here, I brought you these. They're my mom's oatmeal and chocolate cookies. I asked her to send me a batch. I thought you could do with some comfort food. My husband really likes them, says they make him feel cosy. I thought you could use something cosy."

It warms her heart to think of a stranger bringing her cookies. She's never really had that before. "Thank you so much. You really didn't have to do that."

"I did. It was the least I could do. What you did at the camp was pretty cool. I could never do something like that." It's then that Ellie remembers the laptop in her hand. She holds it out to Ziva. "Here, I brought you this. It's my old one but the memory and hard-drive are clean. Tim mentioned that maybe you hadn't emailed or that because you left your laptop in Israel and I thought it would be handy for you to have one. You can give it back when you get your one shipped over or whenever. It doesn't matter. I have another two anyway. You can keep it if you like."

"Oh I can't do that. It was so thoughtful but I cannot accept a gift like that." Ziva shakes her head furiously. She's done with owing people.

"You can! It's okay, I promise." Ellie stills and then looks nervous as she says, "Ziva?... Can I ask you something?"

She nods. Answering Ellie's question would be the least she could do.

"Okay… Do you feel like I've replaced you in their hearts? 'Cause I know that they were really fond of you. Being at that desk… it feels like I have pretty big shoes to fill. Like I feel I don't really belong there. You and a woman called Kate Todd were so special to them and I don't want you to feel that I'm trying to become you and take your place."

"Please don't think that I dislike you because you now sit where I used to. I used to be like you. I used to think that I had someone's shoes to fill. That I would never fit in. I was a young and arrogant twenty-two year old straight from Mossad with no experience of anything else. I knew of nothing else. But after a time, you become a part of something good and wonderful. You may have replaced me in job title, yes, but you haven't replaced me. You are your own person and you will have your own place in their hearts and minds. It will be yours to own and nobody, not even a job replacement, can take that away from you."

She stands up shakily and walks over to her window. What can she do now? This life… good or bad, right or wrong, it's the only life she knows.

It scares her how little she knows of anything else.


	10. Holding On And Letting Go

**This is the last chapter of unhappy Ziva, I promise. I couldn't just leave it at the last chapter and I felt it needed something to end it, if it makes sense. So this is it. Next chapter will be a bit of a change. Only seven reviews last chapter and thank you for each and every one of them. We are almost past the three quarters mark, what a special occasion!**

**Disclaimer: No.**

_It's everything you wanted, it's everything you don't_  
_It's one door swinging open and one door swinging closed_  
_Some prayers find an answer_  
_Some prayers never know_  
_We're holding on and letting go_

-_Holding On And Letting Go_ - Ross Copperman

Should she say something? It doesn't seem like an appropriate time but Abby and Ducky are here debating about a twenty year old bullet in a forty-year old corpse and Palmer is standing awkwardly next to McGee asking him to research about the effect of technology on young children and Tony is trying to find his passport in his desk junk and Gibbs is just sitting there sipping his coffee.

"Um, guys?" Ellie starts but the arguments continue. Only Palmer looks up briefly but looks back down at his tablet again when no further words are said.

"Guys!" Suddenly all activity stops and she suddenly feels very awkward standing behind her desk. She slowly gets off the box of cardboard folders she was standing on and says, quite calmly, "I went to see Ziva yesterday, and I think we need to do something for her."

Now she has everybody's attention, including a member of the team who sits on the other side of the partition. Gibbs glares at him and Agent Sandberg turns around and clears his throat with an embarrassed cough. Ellie can feel her cheeks flush red and thinks that they maybe didn't want to hear this when Ducky smiles and says, "Well go on, my dear. We haven't got all day."

It's the encouragement she needs. "Well I went to see her and, guys, I really think we should do something for her. Have a team dinner or something like that. She just seems so lonely in her apartment and I don't think she's ready to go out yet. Maybe we could host it at her place or someplace familiar that she knows? Just so it's not as scary."

They say nothing and for a few seconds she wonders if she's overstepped her mark. She just met Ziva yesterday; she doesn't know her like they do. Perhaps it's a totally stupid idea. She's just about to take it back when Abby says, "That's a great idea!"

McGee looks thoughtful. "We haven't seen her since the hospital. I mean we've meant to but this case has taken up all of our time."

"Oh God, I feel so bad now!" Abby moans from over by the plasma. "I'll go and see her tonight and ask if it's okay. She won't have her phone but maybe I'll email her and see if six is okay. Is that okay, Gibbs?"

He nods. "Just be careful, Abs."

"I will have to go and fetch that Jasmine tea that a friend of mother's gave me. It immediately made me think of Ziva." Ducky motions to Jimmy and they head back to autopsy.

"Hey, guys?" Abby begins. "Where's Tony?"

It's then they realise that the chair is empty, and it gives them all a sinking feeling when they realise they never even heard him go.

….

Before he knocks on her door, he pauses and thinks about the way they left things. Not last year in Israel, but two weeks ago when she was lying in a hospital bed and he said 'hi'. They'd had a conversation, short and sweet and too much like a polite conversation you'd have with a stranger. Then he's gotten a call from Vance and he'd had to leave, but said he'd be back tomorrow.

Except tomorrow there were debriefings and psych evals and suddenly there was no time and eventually when there was he got scared and did what Tony did best: he ran. Maybe he and Ziva are more alike than they possibly could have thought about.

He knocks and steps back quickly like the door's burnt him. It takes a few moments but he hears a shuffle and the slow squeak of the deadbolt being turned. The door opens and there's Ziva.

"Hi."

She looks up, surprised. He knows she didn't expect him here at half past one on a school day. "Hello, Tony."

Her voice is tired, the tired he remembers from five years ago in a sand-ridden hellhole. His mouth is dry and he's grateful that she makes the next move. "Come in."

She turns around and goes back into her own home and he follows meekly like a puppy. The place is spotless. Perhaps not because it's dusty but that's what makes it spotless because it doesn't look lived in.

"Sorry about the mess," she apologises. "I wasn't expecting company."

"Mess?! Ziva, if you think this is mess then you really have to come see my apartment sometime. This place is so tidy!"

Surprised by the sudden friendliness she stands up taller and straighter, unlike the old-woman posture she had only seconds ago. "Would you like something to drink, or eat?"

He shakes his head. "No thanks. I'm here to apologise, Ziva. I should have come seen you sooner than this."

"It's fine, Tony. I understand why you didn't want to see me." She barks a laugh. "I wouldn't want to see me either."

Offended, he stands up taller and goes on the defence. "Whoa, it wasn't that I didn't want to see you Ziva. Why did you have that idea?"

"Why would you? I didn't want to see you because I didn't know what to say, I didn't know how to deal with it. I assumed that it was the same reason."

"Well you assumed wrong, Ziva. I didn't come because I was afraid our meeting wasn't going to be as good as I imagined. I didn't come 'cause I'm so in love with you still and if I came and you didn't feel the same way then I didn't know what the hell I'd do! I've been debating when would be the right time to come here for two weeks now but you obviously haven't had the same problem!"

It all comes out in a rush and then it's too late to put it back in. he didn't come here to fight. It's perhaps better they do this now, rather than later.

She looks at him distinctly unimpressed and he catches a glimpse of the Ziva he knows and loves.

"You shouldn't _assume, _either. I am sorry if I have other things on my mind rather than when would be a good time to see you. I am sorry if what I'm feeling is not all sunshine and butterflies but I have had _other things on my mind!"_

"Like what, Ziva, like what? Because you had a load of weeks spare to sort out your thoughts."

He regrets it as soon as he says it but she doesn't cry or become upset. She looks at him with her steely eyes and says in a frosty voice, "Is that supposed to be funny?"

No, it's not. "No, Ziva, but dammit." He runs his hand through his hair. Breathe. In and out. Do not get stressed. Do not get stressed. "What do you want, huh? What do you want from me, from us, from life, even? 'cause you're running in circles trying to find it and you can't and it's hurting you so _what is it you want?"_

There's a sudden buzz to her now, as if someone's plugged her in. "What I _want, _Tony, is something that cannot be taken away. I want to know if love exists like it does in movies and books and television shows. I want to believe that there isn't a special place in hell for people like me because if there is then I'm ending up there. I want hope again, Tony, because I haven't had it in such a long time!"

It's perhaps the most honest thing they've said to each other in years. Then the both deflate, the fire gone out of everything because she's just home and are they really being so trivial? In the grand scheme of thing, what does it matter?

"I didn't come here to fight, Ziva. I'm sorry."

She nods. "So am I. This is all just… a bit too much to handle."

He nods and understands. He gets it. He does. It was all a bit overwhelming and there were feelings that had pushed their way to the surface with no warning and no thought of the aftermath, the consequence.

"I hear you're having a party."

She nods and smiles. "Yes. I got Abby's email soon before you came. She wants to know if she can come over tonight at six to discuss the details."

"Look, Ziva, I'm sorry. We haven't come to see you and we were all really big jerks. There was a case and then another and because… well because…"

"Because I had been away for so long it didn't feel like anything was out of place," she finishes for him, the gentle smile telling him that it's okay to admit it.

"Yeah, something like that."

"It's alright. Although it will be nice to see everybody else. Oh, and tell Ellie that her mother's cookies are absolutely delicious and that she must thank her for me."

…

The team dinner happens at Ziva's apartment two nights later. They arrive one by one and kiss her on the cheek and tell her how much they've missed her. They say how she looks _so much better _and how _nice it is that she's back. _They bring flowers and wine and Abby brings a stuffed animal. They comment on her décor and how they've never been to her latest apartment before.

It's nice and it's comforting but it's not _real. _Normally this wouldn't happen. They wouldn't be so nicely fake and worried looks wouldn't be present in their eyes and false formalities wouldn't be present in their smiles. They wouldn't sit at her table with carefully constructed laughter and jokes and stories from cases when she was away. Jimmy wouldn't look at her with that dammed look as if she might break and Tim wouldn't pull her chair out for her before she sat at the table. It just wouldn't happen.

Later into the evening, although, when wine and laughter makes them lose thought of why they're here and what script they're meant to stick to, it actually becomes rather nice. Ducky regales them with stories that are older than herself and Abby tells them how fun it was to play pranks on her brother who couldn't tattle because their parents were deaf. Ellie brings more cookies and it's nice. It's relaxing and comforting and she lets herself unwind, relax and sink into the moment.

Except they all must leave sometime.

When they do, and when every last dish is cleared away and the place is spotless once more, she goes into her bathroom, switches on the light and looks at herself in the mirror. Her reflection stares back at her, unhappy with the appearance of herself. Her hair is wild, curly beyond untameable and there seems to be a permanent frown on her lips. She catches sight of a scar, a small one, on her collarbone and she realises she cannot even remember how this one occurred. It is so small and when she touches it, no memory of searing pain assaults her senses.

She is ugly. Once, maybe, she was pretty. Once upon a time she used her body to her advantage and men would fall over their feet to experience one piece of it, just once. But now she is older and she is no longer that woman who has that kind of power. She will never be beautiful again.

She throws her hairbrush at her mirror, and watches as her reflection splinters into a thousand, unfixable pieces.


End file.
